Sad Song
by Lady Radagast
Summary: Elrond/Bofur :)


_It's madness!_

_Thirteen dwarves and a hobbit against Smaug? Why Mithrandir are encouraging this? Madness! _

Lord Elrond frowns and asked for more wine. He was very worried. His guests were too stubborn to understand that mission was suicidal. The meet with Thorin was an unpleasant one. He still didn't trust the elf and didn't want to give up.

_He doesn't understand…_ Elrond finished his wine. _I have sympathies for him. He lost Erebor, but now he can lost his life. _

Smaug wasn't the only problem. There were orcs, and wargs, and goblins. And they needed to face the Stone Giants. Oh, the Stone Giants from Misty Mountains! Just a few days from Rivendell.

_Thorin, you fool! A noble dwarf like you_ _can't have a meaningless death. Neither your companions. Pfff… Hope Lady Galadriel and Curunír come quickly. _

"Master Elrond! Master Elrond!" a elven guardwoman came to him, speaking elvish. "The dwarves destroyed another table! And they… they… oh, those monsters! They killed an elk!"

Elrond looked away.

"Don't worry. They are just a little upset with our food. Let them hunt."

"But… master!"

"Hush. They deserve a good stew" _perhaps the last one of their lives… _"Now go. Please."

Few minutes have passed and Elrond decided to take a walk. He thought about his life. His past. He thought about another suicide mission, many years ago. Thought about Isildur… the hero and the fool Isildur…

_Well, at least the damned ring is forgotten forever. But Smaug… he's still alive… and he'll kill Thorin and his friends… and the hobbit. Tsk, Mithrandir… I can't understand you. Why involve a halfling in the middle of this… stupidness?_

In the distance he could hear the sound of laughs. The dwarves were happy with their elk stew. Elrond sighed and shook his head, with a mix of sorrow and pity.

_Poor sons of Aulë…_

So, when he was about to go back to his room, he listened a familiar song. A very old elvish melody played by a flute. The bards of Rivendell play that music often, but this time it was sounded so… odd…

The elven lord followed the sound. It was coming from the south garden._ Strange… the bards are sleeping. Who is…? _

He narrowed his eyes. And he saw:

A dwarf was playing the music.

_What? A dwarf is playing an elven song! A little different from the original tune, but still elvish…_

Elrond's eyes went wide. Who was him? He didn't memorized all the names, but he remembered that one. The dwarf with the silly hat and the kind smile. The only one with a flute. The elf approached silently and said:

"Excuse-me…"

"AH!" Bofur stop the music and turned his head. His flute almost fell off. "Uh… ah… sorry, Lord Elrond!" the dwarf looked a little frightened. "My music is… annoying?"

"No, certainly not." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for prying, Master Bofur, but who taught you to play this music?"

First, the dwarf narrowed his eyes. And then he smiled.

"You… know my name, Lord Elrond?!"

Elrond smiled back. Of course he knew it. Bofur was the brave one who protected Mister Baggings in first place. A strange behavior coming from dwarves: protect the ones that were not of their kin. He was also the happiest of the dwarves, even when they had only green food to eat. And was the only one who liked the elven music. And his silly hat amused Elrond. And there was… something on him… who attracted the attention of the elven lord.

"Where did you learn this music from?" the elf sat beside the dwarf. "One of my bards taught to you?"

"Oh, no! I leaned from a friend, many years ago"

"A elven friend?"

"Huh?" Bofur looked puzzled. "No, was one of the dwarven miners of Blue Mountains. He was my master and loved music, so he taught me that one."

"Really? Strange…" Elrond said. "You know it is a elven song?"

"Elven? No… you're mistaken. I mean…" the dwarf looked at his flute. "Are you sure? It is a elven song?"

"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. The name of the music is _Lle naa vanima_. It's a love elven song."

"Woa!" Bofur laughed. "So… how could that miner knew it?"

"I don't know. Maybe he had elven blood." said Elrond.

An awkward silence fell over them.

"Elven blood? But… he was a dwarf!"

"Well, it's not impossible elves and dwarves had an offspring." Elrond snorted. "Very, very rare, but… not impossible. Sometimes… elves fell in love with humans, and dwarves… even hobbits. We are a very sensible people."

Yes, they are. Elves are immortal, and powerful. So the other people always think they are just too noble to be reached. Always ignoring the plight of lesser beings. Thranduil and several others maybe, but not Elrond. He was worried with Thorin. Worried with the little hobbit. Worried with Mithrandir.

And, in that moment, he realized he was very worried with Bofur.

"_Lle naa vanima_ is a very sad song." said the lord. "It's about Luthien and Beren. An elven lady who fell in love with a mortal man. But they couldn't love each other. Thingol, her father, was determined not to let Beren marry his daughter, and set a seemingly impossible task as the bride price…"

And Elrond told all the story. Bofur paid a lot of attention, sometimes asking questions, like a little child. About the Silmaril, about Sauron, about Mandos… When he finished, another layer of silence fell, but this time was a pleasant silent. Bofur didn't know what talk about that so he played the music again.

Elrond smiled faintly at that. "_Lle naa vanima_ means 'I Love you'!"

Bofur paused, chuckled softly. "A good name for a love song! But, perhaps, Gloin would think it's an insult!" the dwarf placed a hand on Elrond's arm. "Could you tell me more stories?"

Elrond shuddered at that touch.

"Uh… sure… if you must, Master Bofur."

"Haha, don't call me 'master'! I'm master of nothing! I'm a just plain miner who doesn't know an elven song when he heard one! Perhaps I could teach you some dwarven songs, what do you think?"

"Sure, if you stop to call me 'lord' too." Elrond smiled. "And if you…" he choose his words carefully. "…if you follow me in my chambers." the elf placed his hand on Bofur's and smiled tenderly. "I love to tell Bed Stories."

Dwarves were not the brightest, but Bofur catch the underline and give a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

"Me too!"


End file.
